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What more might he do to hasten the Saturday work? He could not chop the kindling or fill the wood boxes. The weeding! It was behind. Both mother and sister had reminded him repeatedly, but he had forgotten. Only yesterday his sister had made tidy the flower beds that flanked the house; but the melons, the vegetables,—they were not done, and that would make no noise. As Mrs. Wopp stood watching her family and the new teacher climb the hill on their way to school, she remarked to herself, “That boy jist naterly takes to mischief same as a gopher takes to my green peas.” A three-legged rooster appeared. And Sir Thomas Katzenstein, according to schedule, roamed his box in great agitation, though in fine form, impressively carrying out the label on his cage, “Baby Royal Bengal Tiger.”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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What was to be done? There seemed no answer. At last an idea came to Bob. “Go quick,” he said to the Indian, “get help! Bring a gun. Perhaps we can shoot him! I’ll stay here and watch. You can go quicker than I. Hurry!”I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
The ogre had seven daughters, who were still young children. These little ogresses had the most beautiful complexions, as they lived on fresh meat like their father; but they had very small round grey eyes, hooked noses, and very large mouths, with long teeth, exceedingly sharp, and wide apart. They were not very wicked as yet; but they promised to become so, for they already began to bite little children, that they might suck their blood. They had been sent to bed early, and were all seven in a large bed, each wearing a crown of gold on her head. In the same room was another bed of the same size. It was in this bed that the ogre's wife put the seven little boys to sleep, after which she went to bed herself.
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Conrad
One corner of the garden was devoted to flowers, and in this spot the soul of Betty delighted. True, there had been many insidious foes to conquer before a satisfactory result had been obtained. The seedlings which had first appeared in the spring had been destroyed by a cruel frost. Other seeds were sown with many hopes. These grew feebly and were carefully tended by the child. Then the heavy rains came, lasting several weeks, and it seemed as though the tender plants would be bodily washed away. Betty, clad in Moses’ slicker, visited them one stormy day, and as she realized their danger, her tears mingled with the rain-drops on her cheeks. But the Storm-King was only acting his worst, because his reign was nearly over. Next morning, when Betty rose, the clouds had rolled away and the golden sun himself was peering at her through the curtains. Since that time of anxiety the plants had grown and thrived and excepting for an occasional day of strong winds and the nibblings of a few gophers, had had no setbacks. “Are your going to church?” she asked, disappointment drawing her lips to a tremulous curve. Edith finished her music lesson, dismissed her pupil, and made the little girl tidy if comical, in one of her own frocks. And when the four sat to eat, Billy’s voice rang above the rest in the little song they sang in lieu of grace. Moses was not easily satisfied. His attitude was always that of one who has dined on an undersized shrimp while expecting a ten-course banquet..
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